All my children and grandchildren are home for the holidays! I think the thing I like the very most about Christmas is the happy easiness that comes as a result of just spending so much time together. Work is set aside. The busy-ness that keeps us a bit stressed and efficient takes a vacation. Schedules disappear. Pretenses slip away. And we can relax and talk and play games and “just chill”. The result is a cozy and loving togetherness and intimacy that isn’t so easily available in our day-to-day regimen. I am so, so thankful for these time-off periods that bond our family closer and happier, and make us more committed to each other. We make happy memories that we smile about for years.

Right now my grown sons are all downstairs, laughing so hard together that it makes me chuckle just to hear them. Camaraderie. Enjoyment at being together. Time to talk. Time to tease and play and just bask in being with each other. Stiffness softens. Everyone’s at ease. All the barriers fall. Familiarity sets in. Irritations disappear. It is such a wonderful feeling of loving companionship. We accept and appreciate each other even more. Heaven must feel like this!

The boys make pancakes! My sons Mark, Nathan, Daniel and Daniel's son Isaac

The presents have all been opened—and partly forgotten. The decorations, carols, traditions and feasting are in the past tense for Christmas 2010. But the glow of being together is still bright enough to warm my hands by. The love and easy companionship and enjoyment of each other that comes when there are long relaxed hours to spend together—I think that is what I like the very most about Christmas.

It was Christmas Eve, and as usual, George Mason was the last to leave the office. He walked over to a massive safe, spun the dials, and swung the heavy door open. Making sure the door would not close behind him, he stepped inside.

A square of white cardboard was taped just above the topmost row of strongboxes. On the card a few words were written. George Mason stared at those words, remembering…

Exactly one year ago he had entered this self-same vault. And then, behind his back, slowly, noiselessly, the ponderous door swung shut. He was trapped–entombed in the sudden and terrifying dark.

He hurled himself at the unyielding door, his hoarse cry sounding like an explosion. Through his mind flashed all the stories he had heard of men found suffocated in time vaults. No time clock controlled this mechanism; the safe would remain locked until it was opened from the outside. Tomorrow morning.

Then realization hit him. No one would come tomorrow–tomorrow was Christmas.

Once more he flung himself at the door, shouting wildly, until he sank on his knees exhausted. Silence came, high-pitched, singing silence that seemed deafening. More than thirty-six hours in a steel box three feet wide, eight feet long, and seven feet high. Would the oxygen last? Panting and breathing heavily, he felt his way around the floor. Then, in the far right-hand corner, just above the floor, he found a small, circular opening. Quickly he thrust his finger into it and felt a faint but unmistakable, cool current of air.

The tension release was so sudden that he burst into tears. But at last he sat up. Surely he would not have to stay trapped for the full thirty-six hours. Somebody would miss him. But who? He was unmarried and lived alone. The maid who cleaned his apartment was just a servant; he had always treated her as such. He had been invited to spend Christmas Eve with his brother’s family, but children got on his nerves and expected presents.

A friend had asked him to go to a home for elderly people on Christmas Day and play the piano–George Mason was a good musician. But he had made some excuse or other; he had intended to sit at home, listening to some new recordings he was giving himself.

George Mason dug his nails into the palms of his hands until the pain balanced the misery in his mind. Nobody would come and let him out, nobody, nobody, nobody…

Miserably the whole of Christmas Day went by, and the succeeding night.

On the morning after Christmas the head clerk came into the office at the usual time, opened the safe, then went on into his private office.

No one saw George Mason stagger out into the corridor, run to the water cooler, and drink great gulps of water. No one paid any attention to him as he left and took a taxi home.

Then he shaved, changed his wrinkled clothes, ate breakfast, and returned to his office where his employees greeted him casually.

That day he met several acquaintances and talked to his own brother. Grimly, the truth closed in on George Mason. He had vanished from human society during the great festival of brotherhood and no one had missed him at all.

Reluctantly, George Mason began to think about the true meaning of Christmas. Was it possible that he had been blind all these years with selfishness, indifference, and pride? Was not giving, after all, the essence of Christmas because it marked the time God gave His Son to the world?

All through the year that followed, with little hesitant deeds of kindness, with small, unnoticed acts of unselfishness, George Mason tried to prepare himself..

Now, once more, it was Christmas Eve.

Slowly he backed out of the safe and closed it. He touched its grim, steel face lightly, almost affectionately, and left the office.

There he goes now in his black overcoat and hat, the same George Mason as a year ago. Or is it? He walks a few blocks, and then flags a taxi, anxious not to be late. His nephews are expecting him to help them trim the tree. Afterwards, he is taking his brother and his sister-in-law to a Christmas play. Why is he so happy? Why does this jostling against others, laden as he is with bundles, exhilarate and delight him?

Perhaps the card has something to do with it, the card he taped inside his office safe last New Year’s Day. On the card is written, in George Mason’s own hand:

“To love people, to be indispensable somewhere, that is the purpose of life. That is the secret of happiness.”

]]>http://www.homeschooling.net/blog/christmas/the-man-who-missed-christmas/feed/0Don’t Forget Snowflakes!http://www.homeschooling.net/blog/crafts/paper-snowflakes/
http://www.homeschooling.net/blog/crafts/paper-snowflakes/#commentsSun, 12 Dec 2010 03:37:43 +0000Diane Hopkinshttp://www.homeschooling.net/blog/?p=1189Christmas is such a happy time! Tonight Emily had her “Aunt Emily” party with her little nieces and nephew. They played games, made gingerbread men, did a craft and had such a good time! I admire her for being such a fun and caring aunt.

Aunt Emily makes gingerbread men with Rebekah, Isaac & Abigail

Some traditions just have to happen every single Christmas, and paper snowflakes are one of them. Even if it doesn’t snow, you can enjoy the beauty and magic of snowflakes falling on your windows! When my kids were young, every Christmas included a family night where we folded and cut paper snowflakes. Even little ones can make something pretty. It is very magical to open up your folded paper and see your “cuts” transformed into something beautiful!

Making paper snowflakes is an old-fashioned craft that reminds me of our ancestors, who managed to decorate their homes for Christmas without expense. It’s a happy thought.